


Always Love

by EllanaSan



Series: Tumblr Prompts [29]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Jo is asking for advices, because it's not her style, without really asking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 04:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12246693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: Effie blinked and then groaned. “Please, do not tell me you plan on seducing Gale Hawthorne.”“Won’t tell you, then.” Jo snickered, crushing her cigarette on the stone balcony only to immediately tug another one from her battered packet.





	Always Love

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Jo asks Effie for advice about a man she likes or a crush or something

Plutarch’s house was impressive and everything Effie would have aspired to once upon a time. Five years after the war though, she found it… _lacking_. It was too ostensibly grand, not quite as cold and soulless as her parents’ house had been but close enough that she felt uncomfortable in it.

The crux of the matter, she decided as she slipped away from the room where everyone was gathered to get some air on the balcony, was that she missed Twelve and their home even if they hadn’t been gone for more than two days by that point.

It would be a long week, she mused. A very, _very_ long week.

She just hoped they would survive this fifth anniversary of the rebellion.

The garden at the back of the house was small, which was not surprising given that the house was in the heart of the city, and there wasn’t much to see in the dark aside for the high hedge that separated them from the neighbor’s property.

She leaned against the stone balustrade and listened to the echoes of voices inside. Plutarch’s and Fulvia’s dominated, of course, trying to pretend everything was fine just like they had been from the start of the evening. The tensions though…

Katniss and Peeta had remained in Twelve, declining to attend on the condition that they would make a filmed apparition at the local celebrations. Annie had been spared the chore on account on her son but she would be expected to show up on camera in Four too.

The rest of them hadn’t been granted the same liberty. Well, aside for _her_ who hadn’t been invited and strongly advised to stay as far away from cameras as she could manage. It had enraged Haymitch to the point he had clearly stated that he would come with her at his arm or not at all. Apparently, they were more interested in parading Haymitch around than in keeping the last breathing escort from the public.

Still, Haymitch hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, had dragged his feet all the way and she could understand him.

Cressida and Polux, at least, were happy to be there and to see everyone. Gale Hawthorne seemed equally content to see everyone again – except for her, who he had not only ignored but been as rude to as he could get away with when Haymitch was glaring at him. It suited Effie just fine, she didn’t really like him. Beetee’s behavior was awkward both with her and Haymitch but she figured it had to do with the Hummingbird Operation that Twelve’s victor had never forgiven the rebels for. The two of them had always been good friends but Effie had the feeling that this friendship was forever damaged. For the same reasons, Haymitch was cold and distant with Plutarch, treating him more like a colleague than a friend, and in turn it made Fulvia defensive and passive-aggressive. And since she and Fulvia had no love lost for each other, it made for a tense situation.

“I still say you’re a cheater and one day I’m gonna find out how you do it.” Jo declared, joining her on the balcony.

Effie flashed her an amused smile, glancing back at the sliding doors before fishing a cigarette from the packet Johanna was offering her. Haymitch was busy nodding at whatever Cressida was telling him, clearly bored given the way he was making his whiskey twirl in his glass. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Johanna seemed unconcerned by the less than stellar evening they were all having – and if Effie had found a way to decline Plutarch’s invitation to dinner she _would_ have but, just as he was impossible for the Secretary of Communications not to invite them, it was impossible for them to refuse without insulting anyone. The pool table in one of the smallest drawing rooms had been a nice surprise that the two of them had jumped on. It had brought back memories. She and Johanna had had a habit of playing pool whenever the possibility arose…

… and of Effie kicking her butt – which she had been pleased to notice was still _a thing_.

“I am simply _that_ good.” she grinned, wedging the cigarette between her lips and cupping her hands around it so Johanna could light it despite the small breeze.

It was a bit too cold to be standing out there without a coat for too long but it beat going back inside and facing the awkwardness so she wrapped an arm around her stomach and stomped her right heel to warm her foot. She was glad she had opted for the high-waist dove grey tailor pants instead of a skirt even if the lilac blouse she had paired it with was a little too thin for the weather. The brand new purple shoes she had bought that afternoon – because there was _no way_ she would come to the city and _not_ do some shopping, to Haymitch’s utter despair – were killing her and while it was a familiar sort of ache, it wasn’t one she had felt in a while. Winters in Twelve required boots to travel through the snow and in summer… The landscape wasn’t exactly heels-friendly.

“It’s weird, right?” Johanna cringed after making sure the sliding door was closed and nobody could hear them. She perched herself on the stone balustrade, her back to the garden, watching what was going on inside. “Too much like before.”

“I know what you mean.” she sighed, flicking ashes and resolutely keeping her back to the room.

 _She_ didn’t want to see.

Haymitch had been good at keeping his alcohol consumption to a minimum during the last couple of years. She hadn’t asked him to stop and he had never promised he would but she liked to think they had found a compromise that worked for everyone. He went on binges sometimes, bad days happened, she understood that, but for the most part, he kept to two or three glasses a day. Enough to stop the shakes, not enough to get drunk. It had been a painfully slow process to reduce his daily amount and she was only too aware of how fragile a balance it was.

They had been back in the city only two days and already he was compulsively refilling his glass. And tonight… Well, tonight wasn’t helping. By her count, this was his fifth glass of whiskey that evening, not counting the wine at dinner, and she was fairly sure he had already downed a couple before they arrived at Plutarch’s.

The problem, as Johanna had pointed out, was that the whole thing was too reminiscent of the Games. A special train had been commandeered for them by the government, the hotel they had been directed to was as lavish as the penthouse had been, prep teams and stylists had been assigned to them, there were schedules to follow, a ridiculous amount of events, red carpets and parties to attend, people they were expected to know the names of… Haymitch hated all of that with _passion_.

The fact that Effie had been more or less told to keep a low profile wasn’t helping.

He had stubbornly – and _loudly_ – told Plutarch that he would go _nowhere_ without her and thus the government’s half-cooked plan to whisk her in and out by side doors had been tossed through the window. Effie did her best to satisfy everyone by staying close to Haymitch but not being too… _flamboyant_.

“What’s the deal with Haymitch and Beetee?” Jo asked.

Effie took a long drag of her cigarette and blew out the smoke, watching it being carried away by the wind. She wasn’t sure what Johanna knew or not of what had really happened with the Capitol children at the City Circle and it wasn’t her place to reveal it. The information was confidential for a reason. “They had a disagreement about something. Do not concern yourself with it.”

Johanna watched her with clear suspicion but then shrugged and focused on her cigarette for a while. Silence didn’t last long though. “Gale doesn’t like you much.”

“You don’t say.” she deadpanned. “It completely escaped my notice.”

Seven’s victor chuckled. “Can’t blame him. I don’t like you much either.”

“You like me a little.” she accused with some fondness. She didn’t think she and Johanna would ever manage to be friends in the traditional sense of the word but… Sharing a cell created bonds that were hard to undo or deny. Sharing a family also made it difficult not to get somehow closer.

Annie, Johanna and little Finn visited Twelve every winter so the boy could enjoy some snow and they all spent a week in Four in summer. It had been a thing for the last four years and if Effie had anything to say about it, it would continue to be.

“You’re not the worst bitch.” Jo admitted with a wince, as if it was physically painful for her to say as much.

“Why, _thank you_.” she replied, rolling her eyes. She took a quick drag before going on. “I am not very fond of him anyway. Not only is he a rude young man but his history with Katniss alone…”

“What kind of history are we talking here?” Johanna cut in. “She _fucked_ him?”

Effie hesitated, watching the red glow of her cigarette. “I do not think so. And _really_ must you be so vulgar all the time?”

“Then, what?” the victor insisted. “’Cause he was following her around like a puppy in Thirteen. It was sickening to watch. He had it _bad_. Maybe not worse than Peeta but _bad_.”

“She never discussed it with me.” she countered. “From what I know he was her best friend and from what I gathered from Haymitch and Peeta, she might have had feelings for him at some point. They had a fallout during the war.”

“And she chose Peeta.” Jo snorted. “Must suck to be the default guy.”

“Peeta is _not_ the default guy.” she frowned. “And why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?”

“Just making sure I’m not stepping on any toes.” Johanna dismissed. “Not that I care much but I like to know what kind of mess I’m going in for.”

Effie blinked and then groaned. “Please, do _not_ tell me you plan on seducing Gale Hawthorne.”

“Won’t tell you, then.” Jo snickered, crushing her cigarette on the stone balcony only to immediately tug another one from her battered packet.

“This is a _terrible_ idea.” she warned, crushing the bud of her own cigarette in a similar fashion. She glanced back at the room because she wasn’t sure where to dispose of it properly but since nobody was paying them any attention and Plutarch had a staff waiting hand on foot on him, she simply tossed it on the floor and nudged it toward the edge of the balcony. “Truly, Johanna…”

“Not _that_ terrible.” Seven’s victor cackled and Effie was startled to realize her brown eyes were sparkling. Johanna’s eyes _never_ sparkled and certainly not like _that_. “That guy knows how to use his cock.”

“ _Jo_!” she exclaimed in outrage. However her curiosity won over her offended sense of propriety. “How do you _even_ know…”

“After the whole execution disaster.” Johanna shrugged. “We were stuck here for _weeks_ before we were cleared to go to Four, remember?” She remembered little that didn’t have to do with Katniss’ trial. That and trying not to let her demons get the better of her had been her only focus at that time. “He was waiting to be transferred to his command in Two. He was pissed, I was bored.”

“You slept with him.” she stated just so it was clear and out there.

“ _Oh, yeah_.” Jo confirmed with a salacious grin and a wriggle of her eyebrows. “Saw him around a few times too. He came to Four for work a couple of years ago. I stopped in Two on my way to Seven once or twice…”

“You are having an affair with Gale Hawthorne.” she heard herself squeal like a teenager, her eyes wide. She couldn’t have been more stunned if Haymitch had come out right there and had asked her to marry him.

“Not an _affair_.” the victor denied with a growl. “We just _fuck_. Sometimes. Used to, at least.”

The happy spark in Johanna’s eyes vanished and the more familiar scowl was back on her face. The way she took a drag of her cigarette could only be described as _angry_.

Effie had _known_ this meant trouble. Gale Hawthorne was trouble. She was ready to bet he had broken up whatever had been going on and had sent her on her merry way now that he had had whatever he wanted. Men were cruel like that. They grew bored. They grew _stupid_.

Not everyone could be lucky enough to find a Haymitch.

“What happened?” she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral. Much like Twelve’s victor, Johanna had a thing for sympathy. They both tended to mistake it for pity.

“Went to his room last night.” Johanna said after a few seconds. “ _Naked_.”

Effie pursed her lips in disapproval because while she admired the tactic – had in fact used it a few times herself – she was pretty sure that the victor hadn’t bothered hiding under a dressing gown or a coat and had trounced around the hotel corridors in her birthday suit. “ _Of course_ , you did.”

Jo shot her an annoyed glare but continued her story. “He opens the door, looks at me and tells me we’re not doing this anymore. You believe that? I was there. _Naked_. And the guy has the _nerves_ to tell me to pack it?” Effie turned around to glare at Gale through the sliding doors. He must have sensed that he was being the target of _very_ angry stares because he looked at them, still talking to Plutarch, and lifted – _far too cocky –_ interrogative eyebrows. Johanna actually growled. “Asshole.”

“We can make him pay.” she immediately offered because that was what you did when a man hurt a friend. “I can… _Oh_ , I can start rumors about him having a micropenis.” She didn’t have the influence she used to but a word here and a hint there should do the trick. There were a ton of journalists following them around for the celebrations after all. “ _Or_ we could trip him down the stairs at the ball tomorrow. Falling in front of a hundred cameras might bruise his ego.”

Jo didn’t appear to have heard her, too busy being locked in a staring down contest with the young man. “He’s _such_ an ass. _Fuck_ him. Why can’t he be happy with what he’s got? Any other man would be glad to have that much. Asshole has the nerves to turn me down when I knock on his door naked?”

“I _told_ you I did not like him.” she huffed, shocked by the smug smile Gale was now tossing Jo.  “Handsome men always feel the need to collect conquests and he looks arrogant too.”

Seven’s victor spared her a brief look before going back to her glaring. “You’ve got it backwards.”

“I beg your pardon?” she frowned.

Jo’s foot kicked the stone pillar of the balustrade with obvious frustration. “Okay, so _maybe_ it happened more than just a few times.”

And Effie’s mind flashed back to Annie mentioning Johanna had been going away for a few days at a time now and then the last time they had visited them. Seven’s victor had claimed she needed the space and Annie had just beamed proudly because she was doing alright alone with her son. And since Finn had always been the main focus, nobody had spared a thought for what Johanna had been doing away from Four.

“So… It is a relationship?” she hesitated.

“ _No_.” Jo spat. “I’m _not_ the _relationship_ kind of girls. It’s just sex. Awesome sex. At least it was until he went and _fucked_ everything up.”

“By telling you he wanted to put an end to what seems to me like a casual relationship regardless of the label you want to put on it?” she teased a little.

“By telling me he _fucking_ loves me.” Seven’s victor growled. “Didn’t ask for it, did I? Told him I just wanted the sex and he went on and on about how he couldn’t do this another time… Like I care what sort of twisted thing he had going on with Katniss.”

Effie was starting to get a full picture and she cleared her throat, choosing to inspect her manicure.

“You just asked me about it.” she pointed out.

“Not ‘cause I care.” Johanna denied. “Just to know. Whose side are you on anyway?”

She ignored that last accusation. “This conversation about his feelings… Did it happen last night?”

While the victor was naked in the corridor…

“Last month.” Jo grumbled. “The asshole said he wasn’t going to sleep with me anymore until I figure out what I want. I commit or no more sex.” Seven’s victor made a face. “I told him to go _fuck_ himself. That I was _done_.”

“But you went to his room last night.” she grinned.

“I thought maybe he was done being an idiot.” Johanna muttered. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

Effie briefly bit on her bottom lip, resting her hip against the balustrade to study the younger woman. “Do you like him?”

“I like his cock.” Jo retorted crudely. And too fast.

“To the risk of you trying to behead me with an axe…” She let her sentence trail off but when she only got a glare and no actual threat, she went on, deciding that Johanna had only been seeking her advice the whole time without _actually_ asking. “It seems to me you _do_ have some feelings for him.” Seven’s victor opened her mouth and Effie hurried in speaking before she was interrupted. “I am not saying you are in love with him but perhaps… Perhaps you _do_ like him? Might he be more than just a sex-friend?”

“People don’t go from _fuck buddies_ to… Whatever he wants us to be.” Jo scowled.

“Haymitch and I did.” she offered.

“Please, Trinket.” the victor scoffed. “You’ve been in love with him for how long?”

“And he did not want anything to do with that.” she shrugged. “Because he was scared of what would happen if we left the casual for something more serious and, at the time, he had his reasons but now we are _safe_ , Johanna. If you are afraid of…”

“I’m not afraid!” Jo snarled, raising her voice enough that it carried inside through the closed door. Effie was aware that everyone had frozen to glance  at them. While most of their friends were good enough to pretend nothing was amiss, Gale was still staring. And now Haymitch was too. Seven’s victor didn’t seem to notice, too busy glaring and sneering at her. “I’m _not_ afraid and if you _ever_ accuse me of that again, I swear…”

The threat in the victor’s voice was real and Effie probably should have heeded it because, unlike Haymitch, she wasn’t all bark and no bite. She had long moved past her fears for Jo’s abrupt manners though. Compared to what Peacekeepers could do…

“You lost people you loved and you feel guilty about it.” she interrupted in a soft voice. The first time the Capitol had tried to sell her, Johanna had stabbed the man, which had resulted in her whole family being murdered. In the victor’s mind, she was the one who should be dead and Finnick alive. Never mind the fact that she had been forced to see her mentor, the man who had supported her and helped her after her family’s death, die right in front of her eyes. There was plenty of guilt to go around. “And you are scared it will happen again. You feel that way about Annie and Finn too but you do not have a choice in keeping them with you, do you? At least you do not _feel_ that you _have_ a choice because you think you owe it to Finnick to take care of them. A lover, now… Letting him in _would_ be your choice ultimately. Opening yourself to that possible pain…”

“You’ve become a head doctor?” Jo mocked but Effie didn’t let herself be distracted.

“It _is_ scary, Johanna.” she granted. “But it can be _wonderful_ too. If that man loves you… If he _truly_ loves you…”

“Maybe _I_ can’t love.” the victor spat. “Ever thought of _that_? Maybe I don’t even _want_ to. Maybe I just…” Johanna shook her head. “What do I even talk to you for? You’re no _fucking_ help. You can’t understand…”

“Oh, I think you _can_ love.” Effie countered. “You love Finn and Annie. And I think you might be a little bit in love with that man too. You cannot let fear rule your life or you are letting Snow win. It does not matter if he is dead. If you run away from something good because you are too scared to lose it… Then you let him win. And you know what Finnick would say about that…”

Johanna had jumped on her feet at some point during her little speech, hands balled into fists and dangerous scowl on her face. For a second, Effie wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to get punched and she was only too aware that Haymitch and Gale were both making a beeline for the balcony.

“Fuck you.” Jo spat and then stormed out, bumping into Gale’s shoulder in the process.

“You’re okay?” Haymitch grumbled, immediately reaching for Effie’s arm.

“I think Johanna would like an escort back to the hotel.” she told the younger man firmly. Gale stared at her and then nodded before taking off after the victor, to the puzzlement of everyone left in the room.

“What’s going on?” Haymitch insisted, a frown on his face. “Since when does Jo need an escort anywhere?”

She chuckled and wrapped both arms around his neck, watching him grow red with embarrassment because they were in public – and not the familiar audience of the children either. Still, she was pleased when he held her waist, pulling her against him.

“Love, darling.” she offered mysteriously, kissing him before he could figure it all out. “ _Always_ love.”


End file.
